


If You Listen You’ll Learn to Hear the Difference

by define_serenity



Series: Uncharted [13]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Caitlin Snow is Killer Frost, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 15:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10744500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/define_serenity/pseuds/define_serenity
Summary: “You’re still Caitlin!” His voice diffuses in and around the radii of snowflakes it means to bridge, carrying just far enough to stop the woman he loves in her tracks.“Am I now?” some specter of Caitlin’s persona asks, and turns to him with the soft hue of a smile that’s entirely hers, that’s Killer Frost’s, and it steadily unravels him further.





	If You Listen You’ll Learn to Hear the Difference

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from _Half Jack_ by The Dresden Dolls.

“You’re still Caitlin!”

His voice diffuses in and around the radii of snowflakes it means to bridge, carrying just far enough to stop the woman he loves in her tracks; a part of her, at least, because the eyes that find his are a white smoke he fails to recognize, and the ghost white of her hair is nothing compared to the warm auburn he loves to card his fingers through those rare late nights on the couch, and those rare quiet mornings in bed.

How had he let this happen? Had he lost sight of her, of them, of what they’d built these past few months so he could watch it crack like snow beneath his feet? Was this his punishment for creating that bubble universe where he and his grief were but distance companions, an acquaintance he could keep at arm’s length simply because it was in his power to do so?

“Am I now?” some specter of Caitlin’s persona asks, and turns to him with the soft hue of a smile that’s entirely hers, that’s Killer Frost’s, and it steadily unravels him further.

“Of course,” he whispers breathlessly. How can she doubt that? How could he? These powers can’t erase who she is inside; the strongest person he knows, the woman who would risk her life for those she loves, the no-longer-broken shell of a girl who’d in no uncertain terms unbroken him. She’s not gone. She can’t be.

This isn’t how the story ends.

Then, more strongly, “ _Of course_ you are! You’re Caitlin!” He inches closer, snow catching at his lashes, at the tears in his eyes and he has to blink several times in order to see Killer Frost startle at the sound of his voice.

Could it be? Can she hear him? Could he reach her yet?

“You’re _my_ Caitlin!” he shouts, and struggles another step closer, but Killer Frost conquers a step too and the wind picks up speed, gust of air so cold his molecules can’t move fast enough to hold onto his body heat, and it starts in circles around them, as if the world itself wants them to have this moment.

“ _Your_ Caitlin died, Barry Allen,” Killer Frost taunts, arctic eyes dancing with mirth. “And the moment she lost control I took my shot.”

His left knee gives out, nearly taking him with it. As if he needs reminding. As if doesn’t see the light in her eyes go out every time he closes his. As if he doesn’t still feel her lying weightless in his arms, her final words ( _I love you_ ) falling from her lips like—

Like snowflakes.

“I was small before,” Killer Frost says, “kicking and screaming to come out. And so hungry.”

That hunger controls her now—that hunger is what Cisco named Killer Frost, not the girl turned colder, not the woman the hunger stole away. If they can find a way to satiate that hunger they could get Caitlin back. They might even be able to cure her.

“Now she’s the little voice in my head.”

With that he regains his footing, because that means Caitlin isn’t gone, she isn’t dead, and whatever lay dormant and awoke after she died brought Caitlin back to life with it. His Caitlin is still standing right in front of him; he just has to look a little closer.

“Caitlin’s had her turn,” Killer Frost sneers. “She’s had _years_.”

“I haven’t,” he hushes, quickly and quietly, his teeth chattering, but it grabs Killer Frost’s –Caitlin’s- attention right away. That’s right. He’s only had a few months being with her and that’s not enough by far. He wants more time. He _needs_ more time.

“It’s taken us so long to get here, Caitlin, to find each other.” He folds his arms around his chest, holding on to what little heat he has left to keep standing, to keep talking, to keep his heart from breaking. “I won’t give that up without a fight. I love you, and I know you love me. I want a forever with you.”

Something flickers in Killer Frost’s eyes; a shadow of Caitlin, some facet of her that heeds his call, that’s drawn to his voice and his heart, to his love for her the way he’s unconsciously drifted towards her for more years than he can count. There was something unspoken from the start, something frail and something both of them failed to nurture, because there were other people, other loves, other losses, other metas, other villains—

Other endings.

But he saw the light, and so had she, and it’s been good. It’s been so good. Too good to sacrifice to other appetites.

“With...” Killer Frost’s lips tremble— _Caitlin’s_ lips tremble as she cautiously asks, “... me?”

“You’re Caitlin,” he stresses, and the wind and snow give way to a softer bite, allowing him closer. “All of you.” He reaches up a hand and cups her cheek, her eyes falling shut at the touch of the leather, at any sort of touch at all, which hasn’t come easy to her in a while. “I’ll always want all of you.”

He won’t have any part of her doubt that; he’ll always be here like she’s been there for him, he’ll never stray from her side again if that’s what she needs to get through this.

“Barry?” Caitlin’s voice cracks, and her eyes open to the same smokey white pupils, but it’s Caitlin, it’s all Caitlin; the Caitlin who watched over him for nine months, the same Caitlin who’d made him promise to come back to her, bruised, battered, cut, but alive right before she kissed him for the first time. Caitlin Snow, who’d seen him broken more times than either of them could count, but put him back together again each time.

It would be remiss of him not to return the favor.

“I’m here,” he whispers, and folds his arms around her, vibrates his body at the right frequency to warm them both up, and kisses her white hair. Maybe he’ll get used to drawing his fingers through this, too.

“I’m so cold,” she cries into his shoulder, shaking violently against him—nothing he does will help her now, but maybe an IV of hot saline could, maybe Firestorm could. Whatever the case, he’ll keep fighting for her, for them.

And he’s not alone in that.

“We’ll get you warm,” he promises, “Cisco’s waiting for us.”

 

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


End file.
